Mystery with Nobbs on
by Langwurst
Summary: Nobby Nobbs face’s the threat of promotion once again in this spine chilling tale. Now with newish ending. Please r and r.


I own none of the characters or places written hereafter, I'm not turning a profit on this I just did for as much mine as the reader's amusement. Enjoy, please r/r. 

Mystery with Nobbs on.

'See this badge? Yeah? Now, see this foot'  
'Nobby.' Shouted Sergeant Colon restraining his far smaller college.  
'Let me at em, Let me at em.' Screamed Nobby continuing to struggle but less so as through the pink mists he could see the stall holder, and had noticed he was bigger than Nobby. 'Nobby what has got into you.' As the sergeant spoke he tried to drag his friend backwards across Sator Square he signalled to two other guardsmen to come help him.  
'He shouldn't of said that about our mum!' Screamed the small corporeal. Reflecting that anything intended as an insult said about old Masie Nobbs was probably accurate Sergeant Colon indicated for the two constables to pick Nobby up by his legs. They set out down Battel Street on one side of the University.

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Duke Sir Samuel Vimes Commander of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch glared across his rather crowded desk at the pigeon-chested Corporal. He couldn't fire Nobby, It wasn't that he didn't have grounds even without the recent string of incidents,(which had only avoided becoming Incidents by the quick thinking of Fred Colon) There was still a list of petty thievery and other crimes of a petty nature a mile long. The reason you couldn't get rid of Nobby Nobbs was much the same reason you couldn't get rid of the creaky floorboards or the distressing smell halfway up the stairs, because they came with the place, you may moan all you like about such minor annoyances as the way the door jammed in wet weather but if anyone suggested doing something about it you would be horrified, and if one day you came in and it was gone, well it would be like the sudden death of an old friend. Anyway Commander Vimes snapped himself out of the reflection; the point was he couldn't fire Nobby.  
'Nobby'  
'Yessir?' As Nobby spoke he attempted to stand further to attention making it look as if his chest wanted to get higher than his head via his nose.  
''Nobby why has it come to my attention that you seem to be a little agitated of late'  
'Couldn't say sir'  
'Nobby you know if it had been anyone else they would have been out on there ear by now'  
'Yessir'  
'You do realise you leave me no choice but to demo…' Vimes trailed off and switched mental gears. 'As I was saying you are betraying exactly the right kind of attitude I expect to see in an officer that's why I'm promoting you to full Sergeant. Unpaid of course I know a man† such as yourself is only in it for the glory'  
'Yessir?' Vimes watched as this sank into the soul of Nobby and panic started to shoot up the other way.  
'Right then as that seems to be all sorted out I'll expect you to report back in a week's time, when we can review your progress and discuss further promotion opportunities'  
'Sir?' Said Nobby panic breaking out into his voice now, having already visited every other part of Nobby.  
'That's all Sergeant'  
Nobby could only whimper in reply lost in a personal hell of his own.  
'You may leave Nobby.' Nobby walked out the door and down the stairs resembling a day-dreamer.  
Vimes wondered if he had gone a step to far on that one and whether this meant he was thinking like Vetinari.

† Vimes crossed his fingers under the table

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'So how did it go?' Colon had been standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for his friend anxiously. He hadn't heard any shouting which was good, but it also meant Vimes could have been Not Shouting which was worse. 'What happened?' Repeated the fat sergeant. 'Mnghh.' Murmured newly appointed Sergeant Nobbs. Fred Colon looked up and realised about thirty coppers were trying really hard to look busy.

'Come on I'll make you a nice cuppa'  
Because Fred Colon was another square peg in a world of round holes he† had been given an office in the old Lemonade factory in which he kept the kettle constantly on the boil because from time to time an ex-con or old watchman‡ would pop in to see old Fred and no washerwoman gossiped more than an old watchman.

†and unofficially but not unexpectedly Nobby

‡ Occasionally the same man.

'Soon have you back to your old self.' Said Fred Colon, as he poured two large mugs of tea. He plonked one down in front of the trembling Sergeant having first poured half the sugar bowl in it. Nobby took a few sips sloshing some down his front. Slowly he seemed to come back to himself. 'He promoted me Fred'  
'What old Stoneface'  
'Yeah'  
'Well I never. Did he say why Nobby'  
'Cause I was showing attitude befitting of an officer.' Sergeant Colon nodded, this defiantly sounded like punishable behaviour to him.  
'What did you get promoted too Nobby'  
'Full Sergeant.' 'Well that's not too bad at least you'll get the extra five dollars a month and the stripes money'  
'Nuh. Unpaid'  
'Ah.' A light came on behind Nobby's eyes as he finally came to grips with the sheer horror of it.  
'And he said I was to go back next week to discuss further "Promotional Opportunities". Fred we gotta do something.' Nobby stood up along with every nerve ending in his body then sagged down again. 'What are we gonna do Fred'  
'When ole Keel made me Sergeant I got busted down to Corporeal again'  
'How'  
'Well when we got Threefoot as a Captain he said there where others more suited to the post and that I was an "illiterate oaf'  
'What does that mean sarge'  
'Dunno Nobby I never had much truck with books.' They both sought for some kind of help in this. 'I suppose you could be really bad at sergeanting'  
'How do you do that?' Fred Colon who had in his entire career had not figured out the exact nature of sergeanting tried to figure this one out.  
'You could give the wrong orders or not take them right.' 'Nah,' said Nobby deep in thought.' I think he would only promote me again'  
'You don't think Nobby'  
'What? What'  
'You don't suppose it's because of the way you've been acting lately?' Nobby sat back into his chair in sullen silence. 'Look Nobby you're going to have to tell someone and it might as well be me and I reckon that Vimsey would demote you again if we sorted it all out'  
'I can be corporeal again'  
'I reckon.' As Nobby didn't seem entirely bought yet he added. 'The alternative is being promoted till your captain'  
'Captain?' Nobby gulped.  
'If he stops there.' Added Colon darkly.  
'Well you know I was part of the Morpork Folk-Dance and Song Club'  
'Was?' Said Sergeant Colon who was he to admit only vaguely aware of how Nobby spent his time after work.  
'Yeah; we got this new guy called Johnson†.'

†No relation to Infamous Architect Bergholt Stuttley "Bloody Stupid" Johnson whose light-hearted approach to such things as scale had resulted in the Collapsed Tower of Quirm and a fruit pie believed to have been Miles high‡.

‡It exploded

'Yes Nobby'  
'Well what with George passing on like we all decided that Johnson was the right man to be high overseer and secretary of the committee'  
'Go on Nobby'  
'Well he had all these ideas on how we could.' At this point his face further scrunched up in the pain of recollection. '"Further diversify our horizons whilst branching out into the economical community and reaping the benefit by manipulating those of challenged Intellect'  
'What does all that mean'  
'Dunno sarge but at the time we reckoned it meant he was gonna have the meeting house repainted ad maybe ave a whip round for a new tambourine'  
'So what did he do'  
'He said that we should "As a community of persons devoted to upholding cherished ways of the ancestors of our proud state commission the fiscal aid of our noble and generous government." So me and Podgy Thompson and Two-Drawer Jackson all went down to the palace and asked for two thousand dollars for upholding the Patricians cherished ways'  
'and he said no right'  
'Uh-huh gave us Two hundred and thirty dollars.' Colon nearly swallowed his cup as well as the tea he was trying to drink. 'He said we could have it as he was interested'  
'Is it possible he meant with interest†?'

† The patrician did not consider himself or any part of the proud organisation he represented loan sharks; they were a government which just meant they didn't have to wear sunglasses all the time.

'Yes and then'  
'Then'  
'Yeah, then he said he needed money to lay the foundations of our further projects, so we all put five dollars in and when it came to the meeting five days ago he had up and left taking all the money and Morris bells'  
'Why didn't you say nothing Nobby'  
'Dint like to sarge.' There were two reasons why Nobby had not informed his colleges. Firstly the fact that he was part of a society that, involving bell handkerchiefs tambourines and dancing to an erratic harmonium was one of Nobby's closely guarded secrets †, it had in fact had taken a dragon destroying their previous headquarters before even Sergeant Colon found out. The second reason was that it was Nobby who had been the victim, a situation about as likely as an honest lawyer and virgin "seamstress" rolled into one.

†along side what had happened to the entire armoury of his regiment during his stint in the army

'Right then Nobby looks like we'll have to investigate this one our selves.'

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'Ping is it?' 'Yes Sergeant'  
'Says here you were on gate duty on the Onion Gate five nights ago'  
'Err yes sarge'  
'And you was the only one to report a couple of people on foot not returning through the same gate'  
'Yes sarge'  
'Was one of them about average height…' Corporal Stronginthearm caught Sergeant Colon's eye meaningfully. 'Sorry, Average height for a human, dark brown hair, average build and carrying a large sack possibly jingling?' 'Err no sir, The first one was Unlucky Noel the one who got kicked out of the Gambler's Guild'  
'And the other pedestrian'  
'He was one of Chrysoprase's trolls'  
'Thank you Ping.' Fred replaced the ledger back on the shelf and tried to think, only one of the riders could have been Johnson the rest had been business men carting eggs and other groceries in and empty carts out, there had been a sedan chair and a carriage both of which would be outside of Johnson's price range if he actually wanted to ever spend what he had stolen. He made a mental note to ask Hobson who ran the Livery Stable but he hadn't expected the man to leave the city yet anyway.

'He's still in the city Nobby'  
'That's good isn't it?' Sergeant Colon nodded but in an ever-growing city of population one million and a substantial "bit" finding one man made needles in a haystack relatively easy, after all needles didn't look like hay. New fashioned policing hadn't worked it was time to try it the old way.

-----------------------------------------------

'Walk and talk enough and you'll find your guy Nobby that's what Vimes used to say'  
'Yeah; be also used to say that the alchemist guild were a bunch of crack pot loonies who couldn't find there crucible if it were tied to their own arse'  
'Yes well'  
'And he used to say that dwarfs were all a bunch of jumped up midgets with the attention span and temper of the average ferret'  
'Well'  
'And he used to say'  
'Look the point is that Johnson must have melted the bells down and nine; chances in ten it was melted down here.' They stood at one end of the Street of Cunning Artificers, the many doors of which separated the world from geniuses of every profession it was possible to wish for. It was said should a member of your family be taken fatally ill they could be measured up for a funeral suit and pick out their coffin whilst they wait, possibly also ordering catering, flowers and professional mourners all at reasonable prices. 'I'll take this side you take that.'

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It was several hours later, they had checked at every silversmith metallurgist and business that had so much as an oven for melting silver. Nobody had seen Johnson not even after a little pressure in the form of bribes threats and unpaid tax had come up. Sergeants Nobbs and Colon had retreated to the Lemonade Factory.  
'There aren't any other folk dancers in the city are there'  
'There used to be the Morpork Morris Men, but we ran them out of town'† Bells thought Colon as he sipped tea. Money was money wherever it was but somebody had made there first mistake when they took the bells, probably under the impression that they were real silver but Fred doubted as to whether anything real silver and not nailed bolted and padlocked down in the vicinity of Nobby would not disappear mysteriously leaving a faint odour of dog ends and foot powder. Again he could have thrown them away but the city had a complex recycling process and Sergeant Colon knew most of the fences in the city, they reported nothing of the ilk to be on the market. He could feel the idea growing till a rather sad looking face had appeared from the deeper recess of his mind.  
'Drink up Nobby we're going out'  
'What again sarge but we only just got in.'

†On Discworld Morris dancing was a competitive sport.

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Sergeant Colon inspected the knocker it appeared to be attached to a little copper wire that ran up the walls of the Fools Guild until it reached what seemed to be a lighting rod. Colon not using the knocker rapped on the door. A large window slit opened and a pie on the end of a mechanical spring attempted to spring out, however due to age and rust it merely squeaked out then fell off.  
'This place hasn't changed then'  
'What do you want?' A small face had replaced the armature of the pie delivery machine.  
'We just need to ask Doctor Whiteface a few questions'  
'Have you got a meeting'  
'No we're just about to have it'  
'He won't like it'  
'Ah come on George, you know we're coming in one way or another and we used to play rat conkers together.' The door creaked open slowly, it revealed amongst other things a small clown with a large grin painted on his face. He had a hat. It had bells on.  
'Ere where did you get that hat from?' The larger officer put a hand on his colleges shoulder warningly.  
'There appears to be a bucket of whitewash above the door.' Colon hadn't taken his eyes off the clown.  
'What? Whitewash? Oh this bucket of whitewash, I'll just fetch that down for you shall I?'

They had made it to the doctors office evading pranks that involved electrocution, scalding and in one instance decapitation. 'And how can I help the watch on this instance'  
'We understand that you may have recently come into the possession of several new bells, perhaps not from your usual dealer'  
'That is true. May I ask for what purpose you are questioning the completely honest transaction of the afore mentioned purchase'  
'We believe you have accepted stolen goods sir.' The head clown folded his hands in front of him and gave the two watchmen a long stare.  
'I fear that the retrieval of these bells could be; problematic. However I'm sure we wouldn't mind being put to the effort if you could perhaps perform one small service for us'  
'What would that be your honour'  
'The man we bought the bells from we knew as brother "Joey No-Smile", we have since discovered that no record of him can be found before two weeks ago when he took over as chief treasurer of our humble guild. He disappeared yesterday before we had the chance to question him on this, taking with him a small fortune from our vaults. If I am not mistaken we seek the same person were you to find this man and deliver him to justice I'm sure the bells can be delivered to Sergeant Nobbs's novel society'  
'Ver kind of your lordship I'm sure'  
'We were wondering if there was anything you could tell us about him that could lead us to the suspect'  
'Regrettably no.'

------------------------------------------------

For the second time in as many days Commander Vimes eyed Nobby over his desk however he was accompanied this time by Sergeant Colon. Vimes looked down at several pieces of paper that had been handed to him concerning Nobby and Colon. The latest had disturbed him the most.  
'Yesterday I had a very well written letter commending me on the way my officers handled a situation of great importance for the Guild of Fools and Joculators.' The letter hadn't mentioned who or what situation, it had taken Vimes all morning to narrow the search down to the two now stood in front of him.  
'It also seems every silver smith in the city is registering a complaint about you two or,' Here he paused to take in the enormity of the next words to leave his mouth. 'Spontaneously paying their taxes. And now before I get a chance to ask the officers what the hell is going on, you two have been asked to report to the Patrician.' Vimes sighed. 'You had better go now but when you get back I want a full report. Oh and Nobby how is Sergeanting going for you'  
'Very good sir'  
'It hasn't…by any chance…gone to your head has it'  
'Me sir? No sir. Feet firmly on the ground sir'  
'Well thank god for small mercies, you had best be getting on now he wants to see you at eleven.'

-----------------------------------------------

And now the two were stood in front of a different desk and feeling slightly more terrified. Looking up Vetinari caught sight of the two officers as if he hadn't known they had been stood there for the last minute.  
'Ah yes, the esteemed Sergeants Colon and Nobbs. I trust the life of a watchman is treating you well'  
'Yessir'  
'Good good, I understand you are in hot pursuit of a suspect who appears to have infiltrated many of the major as well as minor societies in the city and stolen an amount which at the moment stands somewhere upwards of a hundred thousand dollars as well as, two hundred bells'  
'Sir'  
'Very good.. Oh yes according to my sources a young man of average build has recently joined the Enlightened Brethren of Eee, The Ankh Morpork Society for Under Privileged Architecture and for some reason the Black-Ribboners. He is taking lodgings with a Mrs Trimby of 54 Tenth Egg Street'  
'Yessir'  
'Very good, I'm sure you'll work it out.'

---------------------------------------------------

Nobby let out a low long whistle,  
'Looks like he's the guy Fred.' 'If he isn't he's defiantly done something illegal.' It is the common conception of all watchmen everywhere that the natural state of a human being is guilty, however when the culprit has a ridiculous amount of money stashed away in a chest and more importantly the watchman doesn't this makes them twice as guilty.  
'Ere he didn't sell all the bells there's some left'  
'We thank you madam for your cooperation in this watch matter.' The general consensus of Ankh-Morpork's populous was that the Watch was nothing more than a bunch of freeloading petty thieves. Mrs Trimby was of the old school of thought and knew that this was true. As a preventative against any fallout thievery she was carrying a rolling pin and a scowl. 'We wonder if there's one more favour we could ask of you?'

Mrs Trimby after considerable bribes baked two pies one of which contained; courtesy of Doctor Lawn, a sedative strong enough to knockout a charging troll. By arrangement Mrs Trimby usually left the dinner of "That Nice Young Lodger" on the table before going out for her shift sweeping the floors up at The Palace. She left the house fuming but had also provided a glass of warm milk should the sedative not do it's job.  
The Lodger entered the door whistling happily to himself. He sat down to his meal helping himself to hefty slice of pie. He eyed the milk cautiously this however was natural caution to anybody who had so much as visited Ankh-Morpork. Helping himself to a second slice the young man tipped his plate and crockery into the sink, so far he hadn't so much as yawned.  
'Psst, Nobby.' Both of the watchmen where hiding in the small pantry watching the young man for signs of sleepiness. 'You sure you got the pies the right way round'  
'Yeah; why'  
'It's just I'm feeling a little bit…' Letting out an enormous yawn he toppled over backwards taking several shelves of canned goods with him and making a resounding crash.  
Startled by the racket the young man ran to the pantry door and opened it wide to be greeted by a bolt pointing at his face and Nobby somewhere yet unimportantly behind the projectile.  
'Ah Mister Nobbs, you must be wondering what happened to your minor investment in an ever growing market of fiscal aid'  
'Shutup Johnson, now the thing you gotta ask yourself is have I fired all me arrer's or do I have one left see'  
'Nobby it's a crossbow I can see the arrow.' The bolt danced little figures of eight in Nobby's excitement.  
'Yeah well, the real thing you gotta ask yourself is; do you feel lucky.' With that Nobby pulled the hair trigger which sent the bolt ricocheting of both door posts and back at Nobby catching him on a shoulder and knocking him to the floor.  
'Can't complain so far.' The con artist closed the Pantry door and propped a chair against it. Cursing his luck he jogged up stairs for his satchel. He couldn't take a tenth of everything he had stolen, but he had collected all the precious stones together to provide a portable fortune. Whistling to himself once again he walked back downstairs and right into yet another unforeseen eventuality.  
'Ah, Mrs Trimby I regret to inform you I will not be partaking of future lodgings with yourself, I believe I was up to date on my rent and I have left a little something up stairs as a leaving present.' Lucky Bint he thought. If she was quick enough she could put away a small fortune for herself before the watch got here.  
'I'll not take ye filthy money'  
'I assure you that the watch simply misunderstood a situation in progress'  
'You get ye outa ma hoose n you had better ne'er come back'  
'I assure you that was the intention'  
'But first I'm a gonna gi' ye the tanning yer Mother never did!' With this Mrs Trimby raised her rolling pin and knocked the man out with her first blow. A few seconds later two troll officer summoned by the frantic semaphore of Sergeant Colon out the pantry window burst into the room; even then it took them all of the strength of both the large young trolls to drag the cleaner off.

-------------------------------------------

Nobby sat moodily amidst all the excitement he was astonishingly sullen considering how much money was being moved about. Corporal Reg Shoe and Igor where stitching his shoulder up.  
'Doesn't look like a hundred thousand Fred.' Vimes was enjoying a smoke leaning against a wall whilst watchmen got under each others feet. A train of money was going from the house to a fortified Watch Carriage, usually used for patrolling the Shades. Other watchmen where concerned with holding back the crowds and guarding the money on transit whilst others sought ways to palm the odd coin and bunk off for a smoke.  
'Sam'  
'Yes Fred'  
'You know how upset Nobby's been lately, and he'll only get worse if this gets out'  
'What are you saying Fred'  
'Well couldn't we sort of skip over some bits when it comes to writing it up'  
'You mean omit the truth? We are officers of the law, need I remind you Sergeant'  
'Oh... I don't suppose we could just lie'  
'Lying? No don't see any problem with that.' Vimes grinned enjoying this moment, revelling in fact that it could still be fun. Standing up he moved away from the wall and in the finest traditions of all upper management everywhere began to add to the confusion. 'Lanks put that back, Jeremy I saw that, Rockafella put the man down. NO; that's not what I meant.'

--------------------------------------------

It was later. They had locked up the man who of his many aliases couldn't decide which to answer to. They hadn't got all the money back but Sergeant Colon had a feeling that the Morpork Folk-Dance and Song Club had turned a profit for itself that night. They had avoided the tricky questions; however Vimes had still expected a written report. Nobby handed it in the next day and was now nervously stood in front of Vimes Desk once again. 'Nobby this reads like a very badly written confession of a mad man'  
'Other side sir'  
'Ah.' Vimes read occasionally wincing at what the pen of Sergeant Nobby Nobbs had done to a once proud language.  
'Well everything seems to be in order I feel I must congratulate you and Fred on a job well done.' Nobby sagged in relief. 'However the punctuation on this is terrible I therefore feel forced to demote you to rank of Corporeal once again.  
'Yessir'  
'Feel free to leave any time Nobby.' Nobby walked out muttering curses at punctuation. Vimes smiled it looked like things were back to normal.

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'It seems that once again congratulations for the watch are in order.' Vetinari looked up from a heavily edited version of Nobby's report.  
'Thank you Sir'  
'Perhaps there is some way that the city could reward you and your men'  
'No Sir'  
'A new dartboard, more men, a new watch house, a pay rise maybe'  
'No sir'  
'Then perhaps a small personal gesture to you on behalf the city. I believe the author of "Where's My Cow" could be persuaded to bring out a new book perhaps'  
'No Sir'  
'Hmm, how is young Sam your grace'  
'He's fine sir'  
'Have you decided upon his education yet'  
'I'm teaching him how to walk sir'  
'Hah, yes. I was perhaps thinking a little further ahead. One of the guilds, The Assassins is considered suitable for a young gentle man, or the Thieves perhaps'  
'Bunch of crooks sir'  
'That is rather the idea'  
'No sir, all of them'  
'Yes, I see. Rather true if politically incorrect. Of course I'm sure an education could be provided for him here'  
'Sir'  
'There comes a time your grace when after setting up a city so that it cannot do without you one must consider what it will do with out you'  
'Sir'  
'Just something to muse upon perhaps. Would you look at the time, half past five already, and what a busy day you've had. A coach will await you downstairs, mustn't miss six o'clock must we'  
'No sir'  
'Very well, do extend my greetings to Sybil'  
'Sir'  
'Yes your grace'  
'What'll happen to Johnson'  
'The unlicensed thief? Doubtless he will be tried and hung'  
'Just for stealing sir'  
'No Vimes, because he stole a lot of money, and in this city a lot of very important men find this to be a personal affront'  
'We could always use a man with his skills on the force'  
'No Vimes, I'm sure he would serve the city better in death.'

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A.N As much fun as this has been writing it has also been the hardest, the Discworld is far more real than fiction usually gets with this in mind it would have been a crime to get any of my facts wrong, so I feel that many thanks should go to the compliers of the Discworld Companion, not least because Terry Pratchett made Discworld in the first place.

Well that's version two more or less with a completely different ending courtesy of P'Tfami. See your reviews do make a difference. Please continue to r/r and the next one might actually be good.


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